


here be monsters.

by mnemosynes



Series: the walled kingdom of westeros [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Song of Ice and Fire, Gen, Implied Relationships, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemosynes/pseuds/mnemosynes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The walled kingdom has enjoyed peace for all of half a century, but the beginnings of war lie scattered over the land. Lord Commander Erwin Smith of the Legion must rally his forces against formless, nameless enemies he may not be able to fight. In the bowels of the Kingsground, a bastard Reiss girl discovers the secret of the royal family. Unknown to the world, a forgotten heir lives in Shinganshina's underground cities, innocent of his bloodline. <br/>As winter descends upon Westeros, old monsters begin to encroach upon the waking world.</p><p>Currently on Part 1 of 4: The Legion, a Night's Watch parallel focusing on the military veterans</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Serpent's Son

It was dark at the edges of the world, and darkness made Nile Dawk uneasy. He was used to the warm halls and comfort of the Kingsground, but there was none of that here. At the fringes of humanity’s land, the people were hollow-eyed and fearful, and they parted like frightened mice at the sound of his footfalls.

The Legion should’ve been summoned to Sina, on his territory, and on his terms. Instead he’d been dispatched to this godforsaken bitter cold Northern backwater like some messenger boy, to speak with madmen. Granted, the Legion’s position was tenuous enough as it was, what with their track record, and the proposals to abolish expeditions beyond the Walls. It was no matter him, especially since the dissolution of the Legion would mean more funds for the Kingsguard. Powerful as they were, a few extra golden dragons certainly couldn’t hurt, particularly when so many of their patrons insisted on eating so well in times of shortage. Pigs, all of them. But rich and noble pigs nonetheless, and that was what truly mattered.

The wind was unforgiving, and it howled its grievances incessantly. The Kingsground would be littered with taverns and inns, all bustling and noisy and most importantly, warm. Nile drew his white cloak closer around his shoulders, the unicorn of the Kingsguard embroidered proudly on it. In any civilised place it would have inspired adoration, but here, only fear. He was not surprised. This was no doubt be the rat’s hole of many a cutpurse or sellsword, and his presence should indeed be cause to flee. Emboldened, he walked with longer strides and his head held high. Miserable as they were should not everyone know of the greatness of his House and profession? He reached the designated meeting place, a four-way crossroads, surrounded by squat, shuttered houses at the very end of the township. He had been told to wait for someone bearing an oil lamp, and that they would be wearing the Legion uniform. Lord Commander Smith had left him with no other information, as was his usual manner. Tell no more than necessary, and conceal everything else behind a mild smile and unreadable eyes. They had been trainees together, and once they had perhaps even been friends, but that time was long ago. They had parted as different men with different priorities. As the blizzard stung the tips of his fingers, he wondered where the damned Legion escort was. He’d have them punished for tardiness. Just as he reached to brush away the jagged flakes of frost beginning to form on his eyebrows, he heard the sound of footsteps in the distance. Be wary, he reminded himself. Few here would welcome the Serpent’s Son.

The rustle of fur was what made him rest his hand cautiously on his blade. Fur was not a component of the uniform, but it was commonly worn by a more barbaric people, bloodthirsty and vicious, those who did not recognise the authority of the King. He tensed as a shadowy silhouette began to emerge from the blizzard, and when he saw the distinctive fur clothing of the savages, he did not hesitate to unsheath his blade.

“Wildling,” he hissed. 

The wildling in question is a young, red-haired girl, dressed in the traditional furs of her people, with a forest green cloak draped around her shoulders. Though small, she had alert eyes, and from what he had seen of her reflexes, no doubt her furs concealed a sinewy frame. 

"Actually," she replied tersely, "People usually call me Petra Ral."

"I care not what your name is, savage.”

"Even so, it would be nice if you’d stop threatening me. Lord Commander Smith would not take kindly to that."

Nile slowly lowered the blade, face contorted in an expression of disbelief. 

"Smith sent a wildling as an escort?”

The girl sighed wearily.

"Lord Commander Smith sent a member of the Legion as an escort." 

She turned around, and true enough, the forest green cloak bore the Wings of Freedom, the crest of the Scouting Legion.

"Smith said the escort would bear an oil lamp," Nile offered weakly.

Before the wildling girl Ral could reply, a wildly bobbing light appeared in the distance as if on cue, accompanied by the thump of hurried footsteps.

"Auruo!" Ral called, "You’re late."

The bearer of the oil lamp was a gangly, sandy haired boy with his tongue half dangling out of his mouth.

"Sorry Petra, I bit and bloodied my tongue again." 

"I weep for you, Auruo, truly, but we need to escort Lord Dawk here back to headquarters."

Noticing Nile for the first time, the boy snapped into a startled, hasty salute.

"Lord Dawk, welcome to the Northern district. The Legion is honoured by your presence and we hope that we can extend the warmest of hospitalities to you throughout the duration of your stay. I am Ser Auruo, of House Bossard, ever at your service," he gabbled. 

Before Nile could respond, Petra interrupted hurriedly.

"Come on, Auruo, the Lord Commander expected us back a quarter of an hour ago. And for the last time, you are no ser."

"B-but Petra, I am of noble blood.”

Petra returned his rebuke with a look, part pitying and part almost fond. Then it was gone, and she was all business again.

"Lord Dawk, if you would kindly follow us?"

The route to headquarters was bleak, with no cobblestone paths to pave the way, and the horizon was a formless white. Ral, it seemed, was a skilled tracker, and only she seemed to truly know where they were going, moving with decisive confidence. The wildlings were known for their prowess in tracking and hunting, making them a real threat to any that entered their territories, often scattered around the very outermost confines of Wall Maria. There had been rumours of wildlings venturing beyond the Walls independently, and more rumours still of those who had managed to survive.

"It’s much more beautiful in spring," she said. "Winter is a harsh time to travel these roads. Your business must be urgent, Lord Dawk."

Nile bit back the urge to tell her it was none of her business, and nodded in turn. 

"There have been too many reports of your Lord Commander’s decisions. I am here to give him a fair chance to explain, and some much needed counsel."

The Bossard boy cocked his head quizzically at that.

"Counsel? Why’d he need any counsel? Lord Commander Smith is almost always right.” 

Nile was tired, of the cold, of the Legion, and definitely of subordinates that didn’t know their place. 

"Would you like to consider, Auruo of House Bossard," he said between gritted teeth, "that questioning the High Captain of the Kingsguard would be out of line?"

"S-sorry sir, didn’t mean it like that, of course, it’s just that Lord Commander-"

Nile quickly quieted him with a glare. He would not have his authority or competence questioned again, and frankly, he would like an end to this talk of Lord Commander Smith and his infallible, unquestionable greatness. Thankfully for Nile, the snows descended ever heavily upon them, and they moved in silence as Ral forged a route ahead. They had walked for a good half hour when the Stronghold of the Legion came into sight in the midst of the snow, a great stone fort with ebony turrets and battlements rimed with frost. The crest of the Legion, the Wings of Freedom, had been carved into black marble, embedded just above the iron doors that opened with a low, grinding noise. The Stronghold had been the centre of operation for the Legion ever since its inception, away from most of civilization, making it the most isolated of the military branches. It was no wonder, Nile reflected, that the only recruits were pariahs: the poor, the dishonoured, and the completely mad. As they entered, Nile could see the Legion’s motto, painstakingly etched in script- “For the Glory of Humanity”.

Is it irony or idealism, Nile mused, for those who know nothing of glory to be those who fight for it? 

Besides, he was past these pretensions of glory, or even civility, by now. Power is Victory. His House words, and an accurate summary of how politics worked within the Kingsground. So many aspired to the safety and luxury of life behind Sina, but the truth was that the humans there might as well be as dangerous as the titans outside Maria. It was a deceptive place, all festivities and pomp on the outside, the heady scent of sweet perfume thinly masking the sharp iron tang of blood and revenge. The only charm of the Stronghold lay perhaps in its honesty: its facade undeniably unforgiving and bleak,and its dimly lit interiors severe, the only light from torches that cast tall shadows on the walls. Soldiers passed them occasionally, some saluting at the sight of Nile’s white cloak, while others simply walked by. The simple act alone would be enough to earn a whipping if you were serving in the Kingsguard. 

"You must forgive them," Auruo hastily explained. "Most of them aren’t familiar with etiquette. The Legion cares not about the…ah,pedigree of its recruits and-"

"You would do well not to speak of your comrades-in-arms so dismissively."

The interruption came from broad-shouldered soldier, powerfully built and unusually tall, but who had managed to approach almost soundlessly.He would cut an imposing figure if not for the mop of hay-coloured hair that covered his eyes, suggesting the appearance of a particularly hulking scarecrow. He was, however, a familiar face. Nile should have found that at least comforting, but Ser Mikhael Zacharius’s manner had always been struck him as odd and unreadable, even when they were trainees together. 

"I myself do not wear the crest of my House here, Auruo. We all honour the fact that we serve humanity, regardless of House or the lack thereof," he continued in a slow baritone to a nervously nodding Bossard.

Nile noticed that Zacharius’s clothes indeed bore no crest, the Wings of Freedom in the place of where a house crest was found on a Kingsguard uniform, where his own displayed the serpent crest of his House. This, despite the fact that House Zacharius was the highly respected Warden of the North, and anyone bearing their bear crest would command significant influence. Nile’s own father had provided him with a list of acceptable acquaintances to mingle with in his time as a trainee, and yet another list which bore the instruction that Nile was to make overt overtures of friendship towards those listed. Needless to say, Mikhael Zacharius had been on the latter list. It had been a frustrating revelation to find that Zacharius seemed utterly unconcerned with his status and did little to flaunt it, and Nile’s own attempts at leveraging on his own House’s influence had been met with no strong reaction. Even his most obvious attempts at shameless bootlicking had been met with disconcertingly normal responses like “Ah, no, call me Mike.” and “How kind of you to say so…”, accompanied with a distant sort of half-smile. It was only when Zacharius decided to follow Smith into the Legion that Nile stopped trying to establish any ties, since his father had such a low opinion of the Legion and those associated with it.

"Ah, Nile-Or would you prefer Lord Dawk? Good to see you again," Zacharius said, with the same detached calm he had possessed even years ago. He saluted, and with no warning, bent down to sniff Nile. 

"Sandalwood and musk…the Kingsground has given you some expensive tastes, has it not?" Seeing the look of annoyance appear on Nile’s face, he laughed, a quiet, amused rumble. 

"Only a jape, Nile," he said good-naturedly. "You haven’t changed at all…I can smell the impatience rolling off you in waves." 

"I’ve travelled all the way from the Kingsground to see your Lord Commander, Zacharius. Bring me to him."

"My goodness, and here I was thinking we could catch up and talk about the good old days. I just spoke with him, I suppose he’s speaking to his First Ranger now."

Nile’s eyes narrowed. “First Ranger? Officially, we have you down as second in command of the Legion. Or am I mistaken?”

"Officially, yes, but…we thought perhaps…the Kingsguard might not approve of him so much, but perhaps that’s irrelevant now. Should I take you to Erwin’s office?"

Nile nodded curtly. “If you would be so kind.”

Zacharius ignored the sardonic, irritated edge in his voice, and merely nodded. “Auruo, Petra, I think I may have to introduce Lord Dawk to our second in command personally. Both of you are dismissed.” Both saluted, and disappeared down the dark corridor. 

When Ral and Bossard were both out of earshot, Nile turned to speak to Mike.

"I know the Legion has never been particularly fussy, but wildlings? What would your father think?"

"Seeing as my lord father’s been dead seven years I don’t exactly presume to speak for him, but every one of the wildlings has said the same vows I did. I pledge my life and honor to the Scouting Legion-”

”-for this night and all nights to come. Yes, yes, noble words, but only words all the same.”

"You think little of honour, Nile, but we hold it close to our heart."

"How sentimental of you."

"The Kingsguard has power, glory and riches. Honour and kinship is all we have."

They stopped outside a oak door with little embellishment, and the quiet murmur of voices could be heard through it. Mike knocked, and pushed the door open. 

"Erwin, Nile’s here to see you."

Nile cleared his throat pointedly.

"Right, I mean Lord Dawk is here to request an audience with you, Lord Commander."

Erwin (Lord Commander Smith, Nile reminded himself) was speaking with a young man, perhaps a new recruit. Even the harshness of the North seemed to have no effect on Erwin, the same inscrutable, disconcertingly serene air still about his person. Perhaps when they were still green boys, this could be put down to his isolated aristocratic childhood. By now, however, the man had surely seen blood and death before, and yet he was uncannily similar. 

"Apologies, Lord Dawk, for keeping you waiting," he said, with a slight smile that did not reach his eyes. "I was speaking with First Ranger Levi."

Nile took another look at the man he’d dismissed as a new recruit. He was small of build, with dark hair cropped short at his neck. His uniform bore no crest, and a thin bravo’s blade hung from his belt. He seemed vaguely familiar somehow, with his grey eyes and heavy brow and-

"You," Nile growled, reaching for his blade. "You again.”

"I see you two have met," said Erwin unconcernedly, raising an eyebrow. 

"Well," replied Levi, his thin fingers curled around the hilt of his own blade. "Only briefly."


	2. The Lord Commander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They have not forgotten that you are last of a line of kings."

Drops of hot wax fell on Levi’s fingers as the unicorn seal of the Kingsguard melted in the heat of the candle’s flame. As the wax ran down his hands, unicorn dissolving into formless liquid, he still gripped the letter, his entire frame trembling. Erwin reached for him, hands firmly closing around his wrist, slowly lowering his still-shaking hand. He could hear Levi’s breath catch in his throat at the touch, feel his pulse slowly steadying under his fingers. He gently loosened Levi’s vicelike grip, one finger at a time, until the letter fell to the ground.

"We have fought so hard-"

"-and I will not let them render the Legion’s efforts useless."

"The safety of my people is at stake here."

"I will not allow the Legion to be dissolved. Nor the free folk harmed. You have my word."

Erwin always looked Levi in the eyes when making a promise, as he did now. His first promise to Levi was a promise to a terrified wildling boy, crouched in a corner of his office, with a gaunt look and jutting cheekbones, with darting eyes like a hunted animal. The promise he made now was to the First Ranger of the Legion, Levi’s fingers intertwined with his own, the clear blue of his eyes slowly calming the storm in Levi’s grey. Erwin had drawn no contracts and sworn no oaths to Levi, but he had never needed to.

"I trust you."

"I know."

They had heard these words, from each to each, many times over. It was a small sort of ritual intimacy, and it always carried a certain weighty quietness with it. Conversations exchanged between them were between the Lord Commander and his First Ranger, but silences were theirs, and theirs alone. They indulged in such moments from time to time, however fleeting, each daring the other to linger a little longer. In the weeks after their first meeting, it would always be Levi who would fracture the quiet with a throwaway remark; awkwardness masked by a stubborn taciturness. Erwin found himself breaking their silences more often now, clearing his throat and proceeding with reports and orders and any manner of official business that would cover up the unwelcome vulnerability that trusting Levi seemed to involve.

"I know the man they have sent here. He can be persuaded."

"Is he a friend?"

"He is not an enemy."

Levi snorted. “‘Not an enemy’ is good as bosom brothers for you Westerosi. When does he arrive?”

"Approximately a quarter of an hour ago."

"You might have given some warning," Levi deadpanned, tilting his head towards Erwin. "He may not take to me very well."

"And you do not take to anyone very well," Erwin replied, smiling and returning to his paperwork. "So you are well-matched."

 Erwin relaxed slightly when he heard the emphatic huff of air as Levi exhaled, the closest he ever came to laughing. He had been trying to set Levi at ease, and minimise any potential conflict, though he doubted that he would manage to avoid it all together. His mediating skills would be sorely tested today, that much he was certain of. House Dawk had made its stance on wildlings abundantly clear, often pushing for their communities to be completely barred from mixing with Westerosi society, and doing everything possible to clear them from the Greater Sina area, over which House Dawk presided. Levi’s sellsword past would do little to help matters, even if he reminded Nile that joining the Legion meant immediate and complete amnesty for any crimes committed. He could hardly bring himself to be surprised when the two were glaring each other down in his office not half an hour later, weapons drawn and at the ready. Nile had adopted the traditional dueling stance, shoulders broad and feet firmly planted at a right angle. Erwin knew that he wanted to communicate two things: firstly that he was trained in combat, and secondly that he was trained in _proper_ combat.

"Is this really necessary, Nile?" asked Erwin, making sure to carefully put away the most important of his papers.

"Your First Ranger cost my father a good portion of his lands."

"I helped House Shadis gain a Sina field by being a temporary part of their army, as sellswords are wont to do," Levi said, swaying slightly in his fighting stance. "A life of terrible wildling crime and you picked something legitimate."

"You fought dishonourably."

"It was hard not to, your command was in shambles."

"I’ll have you know that I was in command of that battle-"

"Explains a good deal."

Erwin hoped that he’d at least be able to finish this mission report before any violence ensued, but as he heard Nile’s howl of rage and saw Levi’s swaying stance suddenly tense, this seemed quite unlikely. As Nile lunged at Levi, he had the faint notion that he perhaps should intervene. Duels were one thing, but a fight against Levi could hardly be considered fair.

"Levi-"

A blur of movement. A loud _clang_ as Levi parried Nile’s attack and slid his blade down to lock Nile’s sword in place, forcing Nile to drop his weapon. Without missing a beat, Levi retrieved Nile’s blade before the poor man could react. Erwin noted that he’d switched to a reverse grip, which meant-

Oh. Oh dear.

Levi’s right knee slammed into Nile’s chest, hard enough to wind him. The white Kingsguard cloak billowed out behind him as he fell, his fall hastened by Levi bringing down the two blades clean through the unicorn crest of the cloak. Erwin winced slightly. A bodily hurt could be healed, but if Nile had not changed from his trainee days, he would be hard-pressed to overlook an injury to the ego.

"If I had had the chance to take up a nice, peaceful job, perhaps you wouldn’t have been flailing in the dirt over a field," Levi said, knee digging into Nile’s chest. "But of course, since wildlings are barred from half the trades in Westeros…"

Nile glared, attempting to free himself without damaging the cloak further.

"Erwin," he growled, "kindly remove your murdercrow."

"Of course," Erwin replied with complete composure. "I shall exercise better control over my subordinates in the future, given that you exercise better discretion when dealing with them. Levi, if you please?"

"Count yourself lucky that I cut through _here-”_ Levi said, yanking one blade out of Nile’s cloak. “And not _here._ " He pulled his own sword from Nile’s cloak and hovered the point over the serpent crest on the breast pocket. Sheathing his sword, he stood and slowly backed away. Nile scrambled to his feet, rearranging his clothes into some semblance of dignity.

"You would do well to remember your place, wildling. You are dismissed."

"My place is in the Legion, and I am not yours to dismiss."

Erwin returned Levi’s waiting gaze and nodded. Wordlessly, Levi saluted, pausing to look back at Erwin once more before leaving without protest.

"You’ve got your little wildling pet on a tight leash I see," Nile said, corners of his mouth taut.

"My First Ranger has been a great asset to the Legion."

"And what of the others?"

 ”The bulk of my recruits are green village children who have never seen a square meal, let alone a titan. The free folk are willing fighters used to hardship.”

"That had better be true, considering your position now. I assume you received the notice? "

"I received the letter from the Sina Police, yes."

Erwin disliked dealing with the Police on principle. The things he considered irrelevant in the Legion-House, ranks, titles-all became vital factors in leveraging decisions in one’s favour. At the very least, titans were quite upfront about wanting to kill you. Humans, however, went out of their way to remain undetected. When he had taken on the role of Lord Commander, his first action had been to declare the Legion politically neutral, and fervently hoped that it would remain that way, though for how long he could not be sure.

"Then, _Lord Commander,_ you should know that your division is in danger of being dissolved. If the Legion is as valuable as it claims to be-“

"You can tell your superiors that they will receive a personally authored proposal, the contents of which will cover new formations that will reduce our casualties, new studies produced by our resident maester on the nature of titans, and finally, the inclusion of wildlings to bolster our ranks. I can personally discuss the details of each with you, if you need more information for your report back to your superiors. Will that suffice?"

 Erwin studied Nile’s guarded expression. The changes that he was proposing were perhaps the most radical that any Lord Commander had broached before, but they were reasonable enough solutions to counter the arguments that the Legion’s casualties were too high and its recruitment too low to justify its existence. Somehow, official business alone did not seem to explain the Nile’s paranoia. Nile had always been anxious of disposition on his best days as well as slow to trust along with the rest of his House, but his demeanor today was unusually nervous. He saw Nile’s eyes flicker from side to side as he stepped closer to Erwin’s desk.

"I would not have agreed to come here if…if there wasn’t more to this than the Legion. You should know that I do not care for it. Have you not realised that the dissolution of the Legion is not necessarily about the Legion itself?"

"Those in power have never been favourable towards us. House Reiss and House Zackley-"

"Do not _care_ if some village lackwits from Dauper or Ragako perish needlessly. They would not care for a hundred of them.”

"Then their objections concern…coin?"

"Concern _you_ , Erwin. They fear you. They would stifle your influence as much as possible.”

No matter how far he placed himself from the Kingsground, Erwin’s lineage never seemed to fully escape the ire of the other elite Houses. He had declared himself divorced from these political affairs, but they would not be satisfied until Erwin bent his knee and swore fealty to them, something that he would never do.

"I am no threat to them here in the Stronghold, surely, or even within the Outer Wall districts."

"They have not forgotten that you are last of a line of kings."

Erwin couldn’t help but laugh. Really, the entire business of Houses and kingship was far too convoluted and messy for him to even begin to delve into. Some seemed to be under the notion that he would return to reclaim the iron throne for his ancestors, the Chimera crest of House Smith emblazoned on his banners.

"Dead kings and a long extinct dynasty. What would I be? King Erwin the…Delayed?"

"I do not jape, Erwin, nor am I overly paranoid. They would take your life if they could."

"The words of my House used to be considered a threat, and they still might be in the Kingsground. Here, however, the titans wait outside the walls of the Stronghold, and "Here Be Monsters" is simply a statement of fact."

He paused, expecting a response, but received none.

"Similarly, my lineage is no longer a threat, simply a fact of my existence. If the Chimera still inspires fear in their hearts, I have done everything to reassure them that I have no intention of following in my ancestors footsteps."

"And I am supposed to tell the Kingsground Houses that Erwin Smith has managed to amass the support of the wildlings-the one people who have no loyalty to the iron throne-but he presents no _threat?_ ”

Realisation crossed Erwin’s face. The Houses were suspicious enough to see the wildlings as an act of rebellion, and they had been looking for excuses to be suspicious of him ever since he had established himself as an influential member of the Legion.

"The free folk owe their personal loyalties to Levi, not myself. He has the entire people’s respect, due to-"

"You better hope that your wildlings are as loyal as you believe they are. You do not need more enemies, and I have already spoken too much. Take this as fair warning and counsel from a friend."

Erwin considered Nile’s words carefully. He had been candid enough, and had conveyed far more than his office had required him to. The fear could be trusted though, because Nile was genuinely scared, probably for himself and his family first, and then for those he could still call friends. It would certainly be in his interest to keep the few people he trusted alive, and he had never developed the political savviness that his father was famed for.

"Why the anxiety, Nile? House Reiss has kept the throne for half a century now."

Nile snorted, the old air of self-importance starting to return to him.

"Living in the Stronghold has made you foolish. Half a century is not even a lifetime. There is unrest in the Kingsground of late, and talk of dispute between the throne and the miltary. People have begun to throw in their lots with alliances and treaties. I myself-"

"And here I was, thinking that we could enjoy a few years of peace and focus on defeating humanity’s common enemy."

"Titans? There is no gold or land or titles earned from fighting titans. There is nothing gained from them but a miserable death."

Erwin cocked an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “My maester would likely throttle you for saying that.”

"You never mentioned a maester in your letters. Who is-"

A frantic knocking at the door, the wooden frame rattling violently. Erwin felt a sense of unease in his gut. With all this talk of dire times, this interruption could hardly be good.

"Enter," Erwin called from his desk.

It was one of Hanji’s squad members, pale and shaking. Moblit, his name was, if Erwin remembered correctly. He was often harried and tired, but the boy looked terrified.

"It’s the expedition, ser, the one you sent out before the snows. They- They’ve returned. They’re at the gate," he panted, still trembling with exhaustion and fear.

The uneasy feeling only grew stronger. The expedition had been sent out weeks ago, and presumed dead. No expedition had taken longer than two weeks to report back, if they ever did. For them to return now…

"Well, let them in then."

"Can’t open the gate-titans too close. One 10 metre and one 15. Permission to dispatch the First Ranger’s patrol, ser. Please."

Moblit’s desperation was nearly tangible, and despite Erwin’s strange feeling of growing apprehension, what should he do but accede?

"Permission given. Dispatch Mike’s squad as well. Sound the alarum on the crow’s tower. And summon your patrol leader to me, as soon as possible."

Erwin rose from his desk, Nile following after him. The Stronghold was often quiet in winter, but it was a mass of activity and confusion now, as the clanging sound of the alarum bell sounded throughout the fortress.

"There have been rumours in north of Maria as well. Every year, my expeditions bring back ever stranger tales of titans. If the elite Houses do not fear what is outside the Walls, they should."

The colour had rapidly drained out of Nile’s face, as well as his capacity to reply. As they climbed the steps to the lookout tower, he heard the heavy grind of metal as the portcullis was raised. Levi and Mike would be readying their patrols for combat, though they had never practiced in the snows. The cold winds stung Erwin’s face as he reached the top of the watchtower, and they carried the smell of titan, the stench of rotting carrion, with them. As the sound of huge footsteps like thunder in the distance carried ever closer, and the weight of Nile’s words settled heavily onto his shoulders, Erwin could not help thinking that perhaps _Here Be Monsters_ was neither threat nor fact, but a warning of what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more action-y things in the next chapter, and possibly planning a prologue section to this arc focusing on wildling levi too yep  
> thank you for your support so far!


	3. The Bear of the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take arms against the worst of your nightmares, he thought. We fight every bedtime story you cowered under your sheets at as a child. And we receive nothing for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand we're back! sorry for the exceedingly long wait and thank you for all the kudos/comments. warnings for gore in this chapter, which is pretty dark...

The winter winds were redolent of fear and death. Mike could smell it as if it were a bouquet-the centrepiece pungent smell of rotting meat, the jagged warmth of adrenaline, and the sharp tang of fear that left a metallic aftertaste in his throat. Of late the happenings beyond the wall had become ever stranger, and he could not help but remember the old legends of Westeros that were the stories of his childhood. Many had been set here, at the Northern edge of Wall Maria, and Mike Zacharius had grown up with the forbidden land of myth and monsters at his doorstep. As a child though, he had not feared the titans so much as the men that came from the Inner Walls, bearing the sigils of Sina Houses. He quickly learnt that they were not sworn to honour as House Zacharius was, though some of his kin were less savvy. They were called to the Kingsground court, and banners with the white bear sigil had flown proudly, but they had never returned-the official letters reported that they were killed in a hunting accident, an excuse so transparent it was more of a warning. Currently, House Zacharius was a of a target of derision for the Sina Houses, thought of as bumbling and slow. Mike readily made use of this perception whenever he was called upon to accompany Erwin to the Kingsground, presenting himself as the somewhat backward heir to his House, a harmless eccentric. Their scorn was of no real concern to him, since his real work was out here at the Stronghold. He readied his Legion weaponry, a pair of longswords, and addressed his and Levi's patrol.

"Behind this gate we have two titans, but also six horses, possibly bearing injured riders."

At the mention of injury, some patrol members flinched visibly. The nature of injuries had gone beyond flesh wounds-men had been found babbling wildly, some in dead tongues, eyes rolling in their sockets. Others were completely silent and blank-eyed, moving neither to eat nor drink, and despite the Legion's best efforts, simply wasted away. There was a tacit agreement between members of the Legion that it would be better to die than to exist in that state, and some of the patrol could not bear to face the possibility.

"Our priority is attending to any survivors, but the titans must be prevented from entering at all costs. Given the nature of this patrol-"

Mike looked around at the patrol, Levi with his growling direwolf mount, Petra, who had swapped her spear for a pair of battleaxes, Nanaba with a halberd in hand...

"-I do not think that that should be a problem."

The metal of the portcullis groaned under its own weight, and he and Levi rode outside, flanked by Nanaba and Auruo. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the rest of the patrol, led by Petra, attempting to round up the horses and calm them from their panicked state. They had barely crossed the threshold when the fifteen metre class became visible on the left, dangling limbs visible in the snow. It was fortunate that they were more visible here in the North than in any other part of the kingdom- Moblit had described titans with mossy limbs and mottled skin, mud dripping from their mouths as they rose from the swamps in the Neck. Nanaba spoke of titans with granite skin in the Vale, with elbows speckled with quartz and chalky limestone teeth. Here, they were simply grotesque caricatures of men. Hanji suggested that the heavy snows removed their need for camouflage, but Mike liked to believe that it was because the titans originated in the North, and so had not grown into the earth the way the others had. The titan brought down a great fleshy fist on his left flank, missing Levi narrowly as his direwolf weaved through the giant's fingers.

"I'm going for the legs. Get it when it falls," Levi barked, voice muffled by the roar. Steadying himself, he unsheathed his weapons, a pair of wickedly curved scimitars, riding for its right ankle. Hooked metal dug into unprotected flesh as Levi brought the blades down with unflinching precision and deadly force. The titan stumbled, sending a shower of snow and blood down onto the patrol. In the midst of the gruesome rain, Mike could make out Levi slashing at the other ankle, saw the titan begin to keel over with a groan. Mike saw his chance, and fired a grappling hook from his belt, latching onto the falling titan. He landed on its back as it crashed to the ground, and without hesitation dealt the finishing blow. The warm, pungent smell of the freshly dead collected at the back of his throat, and like every time he made a kill, he suppressed the urge to retch.

"The ten metre's an aberrant," Nanaba called, as Mike stumbled off the dead titan. "Can't let it reach the gate."

"Could you take care of it?" he replied, the smell of titan blood still refusing to leave him.

"Of course I can," she said, hefting her halberd over her shoulder. "All in a day's work."

She gave him a quick smile and steered her mount toward the titan, now only metres from the gate, calling Levi and Auruo to her side. She was one the few with whom Mike had always enjoyed easy conversation with, Mike's strange serenity complemented by Nanaba's poised grace. They had been friends growing up, since alliances between the Vale and the North had always been friendly. Once, they had been as siblings, climbing the windswept cliffs of the Vale together, telling each other stories in the darkness of the Zacharius keep. Their families had assumed that the rigour and competition of the military would put an end to their friendship, but it had only strengthened it. Allies were hard enough to come by as it was, but friends were rarer still. And as he rode closer just in time to smell the sharp tang of Valyrian steel mingling with the iron of blood, he knew he had chosen his friends exceptionally well.

He gave the signal to fall back to the gate to the patrol, a signal generally welcomed among members of the Legion. In the place of weariness and relief, however, he could not rid himself of a certain dread as he rode back to the gate. This was too easy, he thought. Too routine. The operation had gone unnervingly well, like something straight out of a drill, fake wooden titans and all. The titans successfully subdued, the patrol returned to the Legion...Mike Zacharius had seen enough in the course of his experience to know that there was no such thing as a perfectly planned and executed mission. Nanaba wore a troubled expression as well, eyebrows knit and lips drawn into a thin line.

"It's too quiet," she observed as the portcullis was lowered behind them. "There should be cheering, there should be celebration and reunions..."

The stark whiteness of the courtyard was almost blinding, covered in layers of fallen snow and almost bare, save for a few Legion members as dark and soundless as shadows. The sound of the returning patrol's breath seemed abnormally loud, each shaky exhale punctuating the silence. They all moved slowly and cautiously except Auruo, who had dismounted and was running around the courtyard in search for a familiar face.

"Petra?" he called, his voice echoing in the emptiness. "Petra, Petra, Petra."

When there was no response he called the other names of the squad, and every call was met with silence and wind. It was clear that Auruo too realised that there was something horribly amiss, but was simply too stubborn to accept it. Often, Auruo's pigheadedness was almost admirable in its resolution, but here, it was only sad. None of the other patrol members could find it in their hearts to stop him. 

"We should look for Erwin," Levi said, "He should already know what happened to the patrol."

"He may be busy. He has to convince Lord Dawk that the Legion isn't redundant, get at least one person in the Kingsground to vouch for us-"

"Erwin need not do anything of the sort. He does not need some mewling, pathetic Kingsground officer to represent him or his cause."

Mike had never been able to explain the complexities of politics to Levi. He had been terribly sceptical of how power worked in Westeros, scoffing at the fact that titles and lands could be inherited, and hierarchies were strictly maintained in the name of social order.

"We fight openly, so we are savages, and you kill secretly, so you are nobles. Do you ever think to make sense, once in a while?" 

_No,_ he had wanted to reply then. _Westeros is an empire of contradictions and lies, with loopholes in every code of honour and limits to every loyalty._ Instead he had only laughed, and replied _Yes, when the stars fall down and the sky turns a brilliant shade of green._

Coming from a noble House, he did not expect some members of the Legion to understand. Certainly not Levi or Petra, wildlings who had an independent streak and little tolerance for bureaucracy, nor Hanji, with their eccentricities and obscure maester knowledge and three-time treason accusation...Some, like Auruo (of House Bossard, he would proclaim) thought that they did understand, but had not known the treachery of the Elite Houses personally, known the feeling of the looking into the eyes of someone who could well try to kill you in your sleep. It was not that Mike Zacharius did not resent the Inner Wall Houses as Levi did. He was angry in his own way at the Inner Wall Houses, at their indifference and their cruelty. We take arms against the worst of your nightmares, he thought. We fight every bedtime story you cowered under your sheets at as a child. And we receive nothing for it. 

"I am going to look for Erwin. I want to speak with him. Come, Nix."

Levi beckoned his dark-furred direwolf to his heels, and took his leave. 

Just as Levi's silhouette disappeared, Auruo began calling out from a distance, gesturing wildly for the rest of the patrol. Standing in front of him was Moblit, even more pale than usual and though Auruo had his hands around Moblit's wrists, his hands were still trembling violently.

"What are you trying to say? I don't understand, you have to tell me what happened."

"The patrol...we were wrong...dead, all dead..."

"Which patrol? Ours, or the returning one? Which patrol? Which patrol, Moblit?" Auruo held Moblit by the collar, his eyes bulging and his fingertips white, eyes frantically darting back and forth. 

"It's like the-the stories, the old ones, where-"

"Auruo. Let him go." 

Mike placed a hand on Auruo's balled fists, and slowly lowered them. Moblit inhaled deeply, shakily, unsteadily trying to stand. Nanaba gently propped him up by the shoulders.

"The returning patrol. The returning patrol is dead." 

"But they rode back to the Stronghold-"

"Auruo," Nanaba warned.

"No," Moblit interjected. "They did not ride. They were propped up on their mounts."

Mike's brow furrowed. "Murder, then?"

"Yes. But-it's not-Not sure if I should be talking-"

"Human work?"

Moblit chewed his lip nervously, opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. Mike paused for a moment.

"Is this the kind of thing your patrol leader wants to look into right away?" 

"...Instantly, ser. They dropped everything to start-"

"Can you take us to see the bodies?"

It was Moblit's turn to pause, before nodding and turning to the rest of the patrol.

"I must ask all of you to be discreet. The Lord Commander does not want to cause unnecessary alarm at this point of time."

The Stronghold seemed unusually oppressive to Mike as Moblit led them down the shadowy corridors of the keep. There was a grim sombreness in the atmosphere, and a strange smell that Mike could not place. There was blood in it, and death, but those were common enough smells. There was a rancid sourness to it, not unlike the undersides of titan fingernails or the backs of their throats, as well as the pervasive chalky smell of bone and gristle.

"What is that strange smell?" Auruo asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "It's like-"

"Frozen meat," Nanaba replied tersely.

Moblit pushed open the door to reveal a small candlelit room, mostly empty save for the long wooden table bearing five bodies, each covered with a white shroud. The walls, in contrast, were covered with papers, with unintelligible, frustrated charcoal scribbles and notes wildly cross-referenced with one another. There were drawings too, carefully rendered drawings of anatomy, as well as sketches and annotations referencing books and symbols that Mike could not comprehend. 

"This is a temporary arrangement, ser," said Moblit, addressing Mike. "Patrol Leader Hanji hopes you understand. They are away reporting to the Lord Commander currently."

"This is a small patrol, even by autumn standards," said Nanaba. "Has everyone been accounted for?

"It was only an observation assignment, m'am. No direct combat expected. And...someone is still missing-Ilse Langnar, not sure if you knew her..."

"The scholar from Klorva. Assigned to your patrol, if I am not mistaken?"

"She was. Her body isn't among the ones recovered, so there's a possibility of her being alive-"

"We cannot afford to send a rescue patrol out for her, Moblit, you know that. Not in winter, especially," Mike said gently.

"I know. Patrol Leader said as much," replied Moblit quietly. "Ilse was a good friend. If anything...I feel more sorry for these five here."

Mike walked up to the first body, carefully peeling away the thin cloth. It was a young man that Mike recognised from a few years ago at training, his vacant blue eyes still wide and searching, tiny flakes of frost still embedded in his curly brown hair.

"Death by decapitation, or partial decapitation," Moblit said, slowly turning the head towards the rest of the patrol. A deep gash near-severed the neck from the body, the flesh still bloody and ragged. The tendons and vertebrae of the neck was exposed, leaving the head connected to the body only by some muscle and skin. 

"This blow was not dealt with a blade," Mike said. "The wound would be much cleaner than this."

"Blunt weapons maybe? Something with a serrated edge?" ventured Nanaba.

"No," replied Moblit slowly. "When I was a boy, I saw a victim of a bear attack. His head was bashed in, his hair torn from his scalp, and there were bite marks on his arms..."

He inhaled slowly, as if to calm himself.

"The wounds on the neck remind me of those bite marks."

"My father used to keep great bloodhounds...Hunting animals set on the patrol, maybe? The Inner Wall Houses might not be below doing that," suggested Auruo tentatively.

"You might want to see this one," replied Moblit tersely.

Moblit walked towards the third body, gingerly pulling back the cloth. Nanaba made a noise of disgust, while Auruo turned a sickly shade of green.

"Patrol Leader called this one 'unusual'. I suppose you can see why."

The face of the corpse up till its neck had been flayed of its skin, revealing the muscle and tendons beneath, the eyes bulging in its partially exposed skull.

"Petra subdued the horse bearing this one, carried the rider off their mount without knowing they were dead...And then the hood fell away..."

There was a heavy silence in the room before Moblit could begin speaking again.

"The rest of the horses could not be calmed, we had to put them down, but when we retrieved the riders, they were as you see now. I've never seen Patrol Leader react the way they did before. They did all those notes in the wall in less than fifteen minutes, they weren't making sense..."

"Whoever did this...they're monsters," Auruo spat. 

Nanaba spoke in a measured fashioned, though there was an audible tremor in her voice.

"I do not believe the Inner Wall Houses to be capable of this, and not even the most cruel of wildlings would dare do this under Levi's watch. There have been no other major threats lately, have there?" 

"None that I know of," replied Mike. "No rebels, no extremists...None that would work beyond the confines of the Walls."

The weightiness of realisation slowly permeated the room and settled on their shoulders, leaving each of them more grim and more mirthless than they were before.

"The neck wounds. Threats? Taunts?" asked Nanaba, trying to compose herself.

"Patrol Leader thought they could be either," replied Moblit. "They said that it was a message for sure."

"The only thing that we know for certain," said Mike. "Is that we have much to learn. These monsters are more than metaphors, and it seems that these deaths could be the work of titans."

When he was young, Mike would walk the roads that bordered Wall Maria, reliving the stories he had read by candlelight past his bedtime, while huddled under the covers. In the day he would secretly hope to encounter some strange beast or twisted creature while adventuring, but at sunset his mother would call him back home, and he would return to the familiar comforts of a warm bath and dinner. Those days seemed strange and distant to him now, for Mike Zacharius had grown up with the forbidden land of myth and monsters at his doorstep, but now it seemed, they were inviting themselves in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this story in its entirety is going to be longer than i expected, so i've changed the format of this story such that different parts will be in the same work, so when the Legion storyline comes to an end, i’ll begin the next few parts, which focus on a different set of characters until the end of the first arc. ...then the second arc will just bring all the characters together yEP

**Author's Note:**

> each part of this AU is a (mostly) self-contained story, with each part focusing on different factions/characters/locations. like asoiaf, each chapter is from a different character's point of view. expect worldbuilding-centric stuff, with a good dash of political conspiracy.
> 
> originally posted on my writing blog (m-nemosynes.tumblr.com)


End file.
